* Dallas Streets

Dallas Streets were cool last Friday night--Tthe experience changes each new week, just never know what to expect. Didn't talk much on to spiritual stuff this week, just hung out. One lady I talked to for probably a whole hour, she was so lost, didn't even know her real age or her real name so she had decided to go by Mary Spears. She was 53, but said she had triplet sisters who claimed to be in their 70's, but her foster parents as a kid had changed her age. She was trying to make it to Los Angeles to get some surgeries she needed to have done. She had a lot of life stories to tell, so I just listened; she didn't care to hear of anything spiritual, said she was a Christian. But we did pray with her and she was glad we did.

I met another homeless man in a wheelchair, Richard. He had been in the army and had a leg amputated, spoke Spanish and Chinese, and English! He said he hated "niggers" and kept telling me how he wanted to shoot them all, but he couldn't because he couldn't get away fast enough in his wheelchair. As crazy as his talk, he seemed to have his right mind—it was like talking to a grandpa. What this guy said was embarrassing and there were blacks all around; I didn't want to get shot for talking with a guy who was talking about shooting them all! I tried to quiet him down and defend blacks. We talked just a little bit about God, not much, then his bus came and he had to leave.

On my way out I met a lady sitting on a trash bag, Bobby Madison, and she looked like something was wrong so we asked her if she was okay. She said she had been stabbed, and we of course freaked out! It turned out that if she ever was stabbed, it was years ago. This girl (about 25) was so messed up and confused; she couldn't even make a sentence that made sense. She just talked and talked, she told us that she had 4,000 husbands, etc., and that she owned so many things (including Texaco oil company). When we asked who owned her, she said her husband, but she wasn't even married. She looked far too clean and groomed and fed to be on the streets. We figured out that she had just been released from a loony hospital; she still had the bracelet on her arm. They had just DUMPED HER in downtown Dallas,! Literally dumped her off the bus with her purse, papers, and a trash bag! She was a black lady and told us she was a white witch. We prayed for her, and I have never prayed against the devil, against darkness and such like that until Friday night. This girl needed so much help. As we prayed, she was sitting Indian style on the ground, and put her hands together like a little kid and began to pray, aloud over our voices, “Our Father who art in heaven...” and I think she even said a food prayer too. I felt so bad for her; she was so confused. But she said she knew a church and we told her to GO THERE and that they would help her (I hope). Afterwards, as we left she said a couple sentences that actually made sense!

Anyway, it was a very different experience. I pray God does something in people’s hearts and minds—somehow draws them to Him, brings strategic divine appointments with the right people into their lives. It's weird to just do a little bit or say a little bit and then leave; I’m not sure how I feel about it.